


Sucker Punch

by Thraceadams



Series: The Guardian [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, BAMF Stiles, Dubious Consent, F/M, Future Fic, Harm to Animals, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Teen Wolf Big Bang, magical coercion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 09:30:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1118284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thraceadams/pseuds/Thraceadams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the fourth part of The Guardian series. </p><p>An old enemy has returned to wreak havoc in Beacon Hills. Derek has run to her side leaving Stiles and the Pack behind. The Hunter's Council is coming to town to evaluate the Hale/Argent family. And Stiles' tattoo is constantly throbbing with the loss of his mate. Can he and the Pack get Derek back, save the town, and provide a united front for The Hunter's Council?  Mix one Pack, one spark, two Alphas, and a load of Buffy references and you get just another day in Beacon Hell. All in a day's work, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sucker Punch

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to TommyGlitter for the beta - OMG she worked hard! Any remaining mistakes are MINE.
> 
> Also, this is for the [Teen Wolf Big Bang](http://teenwolfbigbang.livejournal.com/) on LJ
> 
> A BIG THANK YOU to Winchesterek for the artwork! Srsly you need to [Check It Out](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1115022) It is AMAZEBALLS!!!
> 
> Finally, if you're concerned about the "harm to animals" tag and the Dub Con Tag, please see the notes at the end.
> 
> EDITED: (Thanks to bleep0bleep for use of her disclaimer) This work is intended for the private enjoyment of the reader. I do not give permission to this work being shared with or read aloud by the press, or anyone working on said production of Teen Wolf, including but not limited to cast, crew, writers, or producers. I also do not give permission to share this work on third-party websites such as Goodreads, which I believe is a resource intended for published works outside of fandom.

**Sucker Punch**

_Who honors those we love with the very life we live? Who sends monsters to kill us, and at the same time sings that we'll never die? Who teaches us what's real, and how to laugh at lies? Who decides why we live, and what we'll die to defend? Who chains us, and who holds the key to set us free? It's you. You have all the weapons you need. Now fight!_  
~ Sweet Pea, Sucker Punch

Jennifer Blake was evil. Stiles was absolutely sure of it this time. And it had nothing to do with the fact that she was eating Derek's face right now. Not eating. Kissing. With tongue. Messily. Sloppily. Nope, eating, she was definitely eating his face.

Stiles pulled his head back around the corner and slumped against the wall. The tattoo on his chest was throbbing and he sighed, rubbing his hand over it gently. He glanced around the corner only to see Jennifer lifting Derek's shirt over his head. The ache spread to Stiles' heart and he pushed away from the wall, leaving as quietly as possible.

He stood outside in the rain, letting it pour over him, his hair plastered to his forehead and his shoes soaking through. He had nowhere to go, nobody to call and his Alpha was getting naked with his old English teacher. Perfect. Guess that whole bonding to the pack and the Alpha for life thing wasn't quite as lifetimey as Derek had said.

Ignoring the way the knife in his heart twisted, Stiles walked across the street, the rain dripping off him. There was only one place left for him to go. He only hoped Isaac was home and Scott wasn't.

It didn't take long for him to get to Isaac and Scott's apartment. Rain dripping off his hair, he knocked on the door. Stiles shuffled nervously until it opened and he looked up.

"Hey, Isaac."

Without a word, Isaac reached for him, dragged him inside and pulled him into an embrace. Startled, Stiles wasn't sure what to do with his hands for several awkward moments before instinct took over and he sagged against Isaac, his arms coming up and resting around his waist.

"He's a dick," Isaac mumbled into Stiles' shoulder.

Stiles nodded, surprised by the sudden feeling of hot tears burning behind his eyes. He swallowed hard and squeezed Isaac tighter. Isaac held him for several long moments before his brain finally caught up with what Isaac said. He pushed away from him angrily.

"You knew?"

"What? No. Your tattoo, I could feel you, in my head?"

Stiles slumped. "So Scott knows?"

Isaac shrugged. "He's working so maybe? I don't know."

"He's gonna kill Derek," Stiles mumbled, making his way over to their couch. He could hear the clicking of computer keys coming from the third bedroom, so he knew Danny was over doing some work and using Scott's network.

"Idiot probably deserves it," Isaac said vehemently. "What did he do?"

Stiles looked up at Isaac, standing over the couch. "Tell me exactly what you know, what you mean by 'in your head'."

Again, Isaac shrugged, but sat down next to Stiles. "I don't know? I just, a little while ago, in my head, there was like this anger? And then lots of sadness and resignation? And like this feeling you get when the other shoe finally drops? That."

"So you don't know anything –"

"Other than what you were feeling."

Frowning, Stiles' brain was churning. Because if Isaac knew, then everyone knew, including Derek. He wasn't sure how that made him feel. He didn't have a chance to figure it out because the door burst open and Scott came in nearly wolfed out, red eyes glowing. "Where is he?" he growled. "I'm gonna kill him!  I warned him –"

Danny came running out of the bedroom, only to stand in the doorway staring at Scott nervously.

"Wait!" Stiles yelled. "Let's just think about this for a minute. Maybe I misinterpreted things."

Isaac arched an eyebrow at him. Stiles smiled weakly, lifting his hands in a 'what can I say' gesture.

"I know, it's rare that the Stilinski intel is wrong, but –"

"What did he do?" Scott growled again, face back to normal but eyes still red.

"He was kissing Ms. Blake. She was taking his shirt off," Stiles mumbled miserably.

"That son of a bitch!" Lydia's voice sounded angrily from the door.

All four of them looked over at her in surprise. "I will rip out his heart and make a gourmet meal out of it and force him to eat it." She snarled as she stalked into the room.

Stiles dropped his head into his hands. He'd forgotten just how deep the bond went with the Pack. He'd bound himself to them to protect them, but along the way they'd discovered that in particular situations his emotions bled over into the Pack. He'd been working with Deaton to keep the stronger ones under control, especially his feelings where Derek was concerned. He'd been so upset though, he'd forgotten to shield and now the entire Pack knew his business.

A soft hand settled on his back and he looked up to find Allison's kind eyes looking back at him, a sympathetic smile on her face. He leaned into her touch and her arm slid around his shoulders. "Don't worry, we'll figure this out. You mean everything to him. There's no way he would jeopardize what he has with you, or his pack, for a piece of ass."

Trying hard to swallow over the lump in his throat, Stiles nodded in agreement with her. "Then why does my heart feel like it's been ripped out of my chest, stomped on, set on fire, and handed back to me as nothing but a pile of ash?"

"Oh Stiles," she whispered, hugging him close.

He flinched in her embrace when the door burst open again and the tension in the apartment went up about a thousand percent.

"Where is he?" Derek's Alpha growl shuddered through all of them.

"Why do you care?" Lydia was the first to speak up. "Did you forget? He bound himself to _all_ of us. Not just you. We _all_ feel what he feels. Even the human Pack members. Way to go asshole."

"What are you talking about?"

The sheer ignorance of his question enraged Stiles and he surged up off the couch. "Don’t even try to act like you don't know what the hell is going on, Derek." He paused as he heard several cell phones going off in the background, probably Ethan, Aiden, and Cora calling to check in. Which meant they knew as well. Just fucking fantastic. He shot a glare at Derek.

"I saw you. With her. Eating each other's faces off. And I'd be willing to bet that every single werewolf in this apartment can smell her on you." Stiles shook his head, a bitter laugh slipping out. "Dad warned me about this, questioned me, wanted to make sure I knew what I was doing. I told him I did. What the fuck was I thinking?" he slid back down to the couch, his head back in his hands.

Allison rubbed his back reassuringly and Scott moved to stand between Derek and the couch. "You're not welcome here," he growled, his red eyes flashing. "We take care of our own and you aren't it. Not anymore."

"Ngggghhh," Stiles groaned as he felt the knife stabbing into his chest twist, burning its way out of him.

"Stiles?" Derek called out, taking a step closer only to be stopped by Scott's hand on his chest.

"Stiles?" Scott asked, concern flooding his voice.

"Don't," he gasped, "don't m-" he doubled over in pain.

"Stiles?" Allison asked worriedly, her hand tightening on his neck.

"Don't make him leave, hurts," Stiles moaned.

"I don't know what you did," Scott snarled menacingly, "but we're gonna fix this and then we're going to talk. Get over there, now."

The pain intensified for several moments that felt like an eternity to Stiles and then he felt rather than saw Derek take a step closer until he was standing right next to the couch. Out of the corner of his eye Stiles watched as Derek reached out a tentative hand.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his fingers mere centimeters away from Stiles' hand.

Stiles' heart clenched in his chest again, and punched a gasp of air out of him. Derek's hand closed the distance and threaded their fingers together. "What happened wasn't what you think and I will explain," Derek said softly, kneeling down in front of Stiles. "Let me make you better, okay?"

The pain eased up a little the second Derek's skin touched his and gratefully, Stiles nodded, anything to make the crushing, stabbing pain in his chest go away. Derek wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, despite Scott and Isaac both growling in the background and the annoyed clicking of Lydia's tongue that even Stiles could hear. Stiles closed his eyes and Derek pressed their foreheads together.

"I would never do anything to hurt you. I know what you saw. Do you think after all this time I can't hear your heartbeat over a mile away?"

The hurt Stiles could hear in Derek's voice washed over him and filled him with guilt. He squeezed Derek's hand.

"I knew you were there, agonized every second over what was happening and what you were feeling. But she had information we needed. I never told any of you why she left last time. She's not just a Darach, she's a Fury. Somehow during that whole time she was sacrificing people as the Darach, she became a Fury. It wasn't until she'd fulfilled her revenge as a Darach that the Fury part could take over. She's not the only one though, there's two more. She came to warn us."

"Why'd she kiss you? Why'd she take your shirt off?" Stiles asked, hating the broken tone in his voice.

"She's bound to her sister Furies. Under orders not to talk about them or who they're here for. Skin to skin contact is the only way she's found to get around it."

"I don't understand." Stiles drew back, grimacing slightly at the loss of contact.

Derek pulled him back in, pressing their foreheads together again. "We knew Jennifer was an emissary, but in addition to that she had some empathic abilities. Those abilities became stronger once she became the Darach and didn't leave when the Fury took over. She communicates through touch, being a Fury didn't change that. The order only applied to spoken or written word. Her sister Furies forgot that Jennifer can communicate through touch."

"So she told you while she was macking on your face?"

Derek's face twisted with distaste. "She's a Fury. They communicate through exchanging breath, couple that with her empathic abilities of communicating through touch –"

"And kissing."

"Kissing. I'm sorry, Jesus, Stiles I’m so sorry you had to see that, or that you had to feel what you felt. If there was any other way I would have done it."

"He's telling the truth," Scott interjected softly.

"I know," Stiles replied quietly.

At his words, Derek relaxed visibly. He sagged against Stiles and for the first time since he arrived Stiles opened his eyes and took a good look at Derek. There were dark circles under his eyes and his face looked drawn and tired. He reached up a trembling hand and cupped Derek's cheek. Derek pushed into his touch, obviously seeking forgiveness. Stiles leaned forward and kissed Derek's forehead and Derek shuddered and buried his face in Stiles' neck, scenting him. It didn't take long for Stiles to feel the rest of the tension drain out of Derek. "What did she do to you?" he murmured, turning his head and drifting kisses to whatever part of Derek's head he could reach.

Derek said nothing, just brought his hands up and wrapped them around Stiles waist, clinging to him desperately. Within moments the entire Pack was surrounding them, touching them on all sides, effectively creating a puppy pile. Stiles grinned, whispering love and forgiveness into Derek's ear, only to hear him growl softly in reply.

The tension slowly bled out of the room, the sounds and smell of Pack calming everyone, even Scott, whose red eyes flashed for several long moments before he finally joined the Pack at Allison's side. It was only when he joined that Stiles felt everything slot into place and a sense of completeness settle over him. The throbbing in his tattoo ended and the pain in his chest finally ebbed away to nothing, leaving only exhaustion in its wake.

"Tired," he mumbled.

Derek rubbed his neck and Allison rubbed his back.

"Rest," Derek murmured.

"Too hot."

Isaac laughed and Lydia snorted.

That didn't stop Stiles from falling asleep or having horrific nightmares.

_He was running. Something was after him; he could feel it. And Derek wasn't going to save him. He'd seen Derek and he'd been with her and they were laughing at him. Laughing at the pathetic human and telling him to run and maybe, just maybe he might survive. So Stiles was running, legs pumping, sweat pouring, chest heaving, and muscles aching. He was balls out running._

_But it was getting closer, gaining on him. His tattoo throbbed, bled. Images of each Pack member floated above his head, eyes dead and glassy, blood covering their bodies. And then there was Derek, face slack, blood streaming from every orifice and his eyes, his eyes were dead. Except they flashed silver-ringed red and his lips moved. "Help me," he gasped out._

_And Stiles knew this was the end. He'd have to take a stand and he wasn't going to survive it. He stopped. Turned._

_Everything went black._

Stiles woke up gasping, struggling to get out from the pile of people he was under. He shoved, and pushed, and finally freed himself, miraculously not waking the Pack in his wake, although Danny rolled over and slid an arm around Isaac's waist. Standing up, Stiles walked over to the window, rubbing a hand over his chest absentmindedly. He stared out at the moonlight and wasn't surprised when Derek joined him a few minutes later, a hand heavy on his shoulder.

"Something's coming," Stiles said softly.

"I know."

"I'm not sure we're gonna be able to beat this one," Stiles said resignedly.

He felt Derek tense behind him but Stiles couldn't reassure him no matter how much he wanted to. He'd come to learn that his nightmares weren't just nightmares, not since getting the tattoo. They were often prophetic. He'd compared himself to Buffy without the superpowers. And he'd started training with Allison and Chris.

"What did you see?"

"Everyone. You as Jennifer's lapdog, bespelled and following her every command."

He felt more than heard Derek's growl as the hand on his shoulder tightened its grip, claws appearing and just barely pricking his skin.

"We'll stop it."

"How?"

"We should call the Hunter's Council," Allison said softly from behind them.

Stiles startled but didn't move under Derek's hand.

"No," Derek snarled.

"They could help," Allison protested. "They've fully accepted me as head of the Argent family. They'll accept our truce. They actually follow the Code. To the letter."

"Even if that means teaming up with werewolves?" Stiles asked, turning to look at her.

She nodded her head firmly. " If it means protecting this town against something supernatural? Then yes."

Stiles tilted his head back to look at Derek. "Please? We're gonna need all the help we can get, I can feel it."

The muscle in Derek's jaw twitched and Stiles dropped a hand and squeezed Derek's wrist, the one wrapped around his waist, holding them together. "I don't want any of them to die," he whispered. "Please."

Derek closed his eyes and nodded quickly. He opened them, his eyes flashing silver-ringed red. "Call them."

Allison shot a glance at Stiles before darting off to find her phone. Derek rested his chin on Stiles shoulder. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"We need to know what we're up against. It’s more than Jennifer just saying 'something's coming.' More than everyone in my dream dead and covered in blood. We need to know. And if they can help? Then we should take it."

"We don't even really know if something is coming though. Nothing's happened."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "I'd say a Fury coming back to town and macking on my boyfriend is something that definitely happened. She risked her life, Derek, jealousy and my possessiveness aside, she risked her life to come here and break the rules to tell you. Even if she did have to do it by eating your face. It's still something. Just, maybe the next time she can eat Isaac's face instead?"

"I heard that!" Isaac protested from behind them. Stiles heard Danny snicker.

For the first time all evening, Derek laughed, kissing the side of Stiles' neck.

Fifteen minutes later, Allison rejoined them where they were sitting with the rest of the Pack who were now mostly awake. Stiles looked up at her expectantly.

"They're coming."

The tension in the room increased exponentially.

"Well, I guess that's that. So what can we expect when they get here?" Lydia spoke up.

"Um," Allison blushed. "I called my Dad and asked him. Um, remember that Buffy episode? You know the one-"

"With the Watcher's Council? Where she found out Glory was a God?" Stiles piped up.

Allison smiled gratefully. "Yeah, that one."

"Like that?" Stiles squeaked.

Sheepishly, Allison nodded. "Yeah, kinda like that."

"We are so fucked," Scott muttered.

"Hey," Stiles frowned. "At least we don't have a nine hundred year old ex-demon."

"Yeah, but we do have a witch, a banshee, and Deaton, an old burnt out emissary with the absolute worst way of helping us, by the way if he's Giles he sucks at it. And hey Derek is totally Spike."

Derek shot Isaac a glare. "I am not Spike."

"You're totally Spike."

"No, he's Angel. Spike was never as broody as Derek." Stiles interjected.

"I am not a vampire."

"No, but you brood with the best of them." Stiles continued. "In fact, you could teach a whole class on the art of brooding. Hey, Deaton could totally be a guest speaker on the art of mysterious and ridiculous non-answers."

"Are we really discussing Buffy when there's something coming?" Danny spoke up from his position behind Isaac.

"Well, until we know what that something is, yeah, I guess we are. What better way to prepare for the Council than talking about Buffy?" Stiles shrugged.

"He has a point," Lydia agreed. "Wait, does that make you Buffy?"

Scott laughed. "No way is he Buffy. Willow maybe, but not Buffy."

"Well, then who's Buffy?" Danny piped up.

They took a minute and looked around at each other before Lydia sighed in resignation. "Stiles is totally Buffy and like Willow's love child or something." But then she smiled. "That means I get to be Faith."

"Hey, I'm Faith," Allison protested. "I had that whole bad girl thing going on there for a while."

"So does that make me Andrew? You know after he wasn't bad?" Danny asked.

The conversation devolved as they each tried to argue their position in the Scooby Gang. Stiles met Derek's eyes from across the room and he smiled. Maybe this wouldn't be the complete shit storm he dreamed it would be.

Of course that would be when things went to hell in a hand basket rather spectacularly because Stiles woke up.

*********

Stiles woke with a smile, still pleasantly happy from his dream. But that happiness quickly faded and his smile morphed into a frown as he stretched his hand out, feeling the cold sheets beside him and reality came crashing back.

Derek wasn't here.

He was with Jennifer.

He hadn't come home that night and Stiles had packed up his stuff and left the next day while Derek was at work.

Stiles flopped onto his back, flinging his arm over his eyes. Even a month later it felt like there was a gaping hole in his chest. At least his tattoo had stopped feeling like a knife was being stabbed through it and settled into a low throbbing. Deaton had given him some herbal ointment that had fixed that problem. Too bad he couldn't fix Stiles' heart along with it.

He groaned a bit as he flung the sheets off and sat up. His muscles were still a bit stiff from training yesterday with Allison and Chris. Whatever, at least the pain made him feel alive because most of the rest of the time he felt dead.

Stiles dragged himself into the bathroom and turned on the water in the shower, never even looking at himself in the mirror, couldn't face the hollowed out look in his eyes, the dark circles underneath them, and the paleness of his skin. All evidence that what had happened with Derek had slowly taken its toll on him.

He winced as he scrubbed over his tattoo. It throbbed all the time now and the skin was oversensitive. Deaton couldn't tell him if it would be that way from now on or not. All he said was that maybe over time it would get better. But Stiles knew better. He could see from the look of pity and sadness in Deaton's eyes, that this was something he would have to live with the rest of his life.

When he got downstairs, there was a note on the table from his Dad. He skimmed it, crumpled it up and threw it toward the trashcan. Another double shift. Not surprising. It hurt his Dad to see him like this. It hurt Stiles to let his Dad see him like this, but there was nothing he could do about it, short of breaking Derek and Jennifer up and somehow making Derek fall in love with him again. He grabbed his phone off the charger and dialed his Dad.

"Stiles? Everything okay?"

"Yeah, just wanted to say hi is all."

"You sleep okay?"

Stiles knew that tone and he sighed. "No."

"Another dream?"

"Yeah."

"How many is that?"

"I don't know Dad, I lost track somewhere around seven or so."

"You know what I say?"

"Yes," Stiles rolled his eyes and joined his Dad. "Once is an incident, two is a coincidence, three is a pattern. I know Dad, I know."

"I’m assuming it's not just having the dreams themselves, but the content of the dreams?"

"Yeah."

"You should talk to the Pack. Think about it. I gotta go kiddo. I'll call you later when I get a break."

"Okay Dad, just be safe."

Stiles clicked his phone off and laid it on the counter.  He ate his cereal in silence, his mind whirling with too many thoughts. It had been four years since they'd seen Jennifer. In fact, they'd thought she was dead. When it was all said and done and the Alpha Pack was no more, nobody could remember seeing what happened to her, except Derek. He'd said he'd seen her pale lifeless body in the shack out by the nematon before they'd torched it.

Stiles dropped his spoon back into the bowl with a clatter, spilling milk all over the table. He scrabbled for his phone, dialing Lydia.

"Stiles, to what do I owe the pleasure at seven-thirty in the morning?"

"He's under a spell."

"Who?"

"Derek."

"What?"

"Remember? She sacrificed virgins. He's always been under her spell. She must have convinced him he saw her dead body so she could escape, that's the only way to explain it."

"Stiles?"

"Come on, Lydia, you have to believe me! I'm not crazy and I’m not just grasping at straws. Think about it. He was captivated by her wiles before, heck, so was my Dad. We all were. She's got some damn powerful wiles. It's not too much of a stretch to think she's using them again. Especially with the nematon showing new life and growing stronger each day despite us torching the fucking thing. Besides, I talked to Deaton, he said, if the bond with Derek had been broken I would have known it. Something about excruciating pain."

"Oh, so the pain that night you saw them kissing wasn't excruciating? Because as I recall Stilinski, you passed out it was so bad."

"Um, hemighthavesaidsomethingaboutthepainbeingsogreatitmightactuallykillme."

"WHAT?" Lydia screeched through the phone making Stiles wince and hold it away from his ear. "When the hell were you going to tell us that? You've been bonded to us for over two years and you're only telling us now that if it breaks it could kill you? What the actual fuck, Stiles?"

"He wasn't sure, he was just speculating, you know, he doesn't always know things for sure."

"Yes, Deaton is rather cryptic most of the time. What made him come clean with you this time?"

"I think he might have actually been concerned that I was going to die?" Stiles mumbled.

"Jesus, Stiles, fuck. Okay, are you at home? Wait, of course you are. Stay put. I mean it, if you move one inch from that house I will kill you myself, bring you back and do it again just because I can."

The phone in his hand went dead and his heart thudded painfully. He knew exactly what Lydia was going to do. He let his head drop down to the table and considered banging it a couple of times for good measure. He glanced at the clock. He probably had about thirty minutes before the rest of the Pack showed up. Just enough time to get in a workout.

He dumped the rest of his cereal down the sink, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and headed out to the backyard. The old gardening shed his mother had used had been converted into a fancy training area, courtesy of his favorite Pack members, a few hunters Allison trusted, and a few police officers his Dad bribed into doing some handiwork on their downtime with the promise of free pizza and beer.

He shucked his shoes as he walked inside, the silence of the place calming his heart. He avoided looking at the pictures on the walls because it was just too painful to see himself and Derek during happier times. He closed his eyes and bowed to the center of the room before launching into a series of complicated poomsae moves. What he did wasn't strictly Tae Kwon Do per se, but a combination of it and a variety of other martial arts like Karate, Judo, and Aikido.

Chris had hooked him up almost three years ago with an old friend of his, a hunter who had followed the code to the letter, and he'd agreed to train Stiles in a myriad of things, including martial arts. So although Stiles didn't have a black belt from any one organization or place, he was by no means a novice. He still met with the guy a couple of times a month, got his ass handed to him and vowed to practice more.

He lost himself in the rhythm of the movement, not even noticing when the Pack showed up and entered one by one to watch until he finished a final poomsae and Lydia cleared her throat. Stiles closed his eyes and took a deep breath, finally feeling the sweat as it rolled down the side of his face and dripped off his nose. He brought his hands together and bowed toward the center before turning to face his Pack.

"We need to save Derek."

"Again?"

"Must be Tuesday."

"Idiot's like a demon magnet."

"Great, the Hunter's Council is gonna love this."

Stiles grinned, they really were like Buffy and the Scooby Gang and he was definitely Buffy, without all the superpowers, but there it was. He clapped his hands together, startling everyone. "Okay, so I'm sure Lyds has filled everyone in. Jennifer's here and I'm pretty sure she's up to no good again. Remind me to ask Deaton what it actually takes to kill a powerful ex-Druid/Darach or whatever the fuck she is so that this time we can make sure it sticks."

"Stiles?"

Stiles paused in wiping his face off with his towel to look over at Allison. She had her kind eyes and comforting smile on. "Are you sure you're not just projecting? I mean she doesn't seem evil this time and why the sudden urgency now, after a month of just letting it happen? They've been dating for a month, nobody's died, no animals have been sacrificed, there hasn't even been any rumblings of anything."

"Except my dreams."

"What dreams?" Lydia demanded.

"Every night. I've been replaying that night over and over in my head every damn night and it's always just a little bit different. Derek's reasons for why Jennifer is here change a tiny bit each time. I think these aren't dreams. I think they're prophecies or something. I think they're clues as to why she's here and I think we need to get on the research train because if they are prophecies then she's up to no good, she's up to something big and bad. And we need to figure it out before she does it."

"What else happens in the dreams Stiles?" Lydia asked and damn Stiles hated it when she pinned him with that knowing glare of hers.

His heart started pounding and he swallowed hard against the great big ball of unwanted emotions in his throat.

"Stiles?"

"He dies, okay? All of you do. Not all the time, but a lot of the time and I fail to save him when he does and it kills me, kills the pack, kills everything."

Everyone looked at him in stunned silence.

"How long have you been having these dreams?" Isaac asked quietly.

Stiles scrubbed a hand over the back of his head, shrugging, mumbling out the answer.

"Stiles!" Lydia said sharply. "How long?"

"They started about a month before she showed up."

This time it was Allison who looked at him sharply, her eyes narrowed. "You've been dreaming about Derek and the rest of us dying for over two months and you're just now telling us? Stiles, what the actual fuck! What else was in the dreams Stiles?"

"I know, okay? I know. I didn't, I wasn't, Jesus, I didn't want anyone to think it was my emotions, my feelings about Derek and her getting in the way. I thought maybe the dreams would stop, but they haven't, they just keep coming and they keep getting worse."

"What do mean worse?" Scott finally piped up.

"Um, the way he dies? The way I die? The first time he just died in his sleep, it was weird. But last night? Last night both of us were ripped in half. Like literally. And um," he looked around nervously. "You were all dead. Your dead bodies were floating above me, all of you staring back at me with dead accusing eyes." He closed his eyes and shuddered. "The dreams have never been this bad, never," he whispered. He opened his eyes again and looked at everyone. "Don't you see? I'm telling the truth. Something's coming and we aren't even close to being ready for it."

They all stared at him for several long moments before Lydia nodded. "Okay, research mode. Allison, find out all the details about this Hunter's Council and why they picked now to have one of their confabs here in Beacon Hell. Danny, see if you can hack Derek's system, see if Jennifer has been using it and what she's been using it for."

"On it," Danny bounded out of the shed, probably headed to his car to grab his laptop.

Lydia continued. "Scott, you and Isaac can start doing perimeter checks around the town. The sigils and wards Stiles placed should still be intact, we need to make sure they're still working. I'll get you the stuff you need. Also call Cora, let her know Derek's in trouble, that Jennifer isn't back to be his girlfriend, not that I think she'll be surprised. I'll call Aiden, we may need them for this. Stiles, can you still feel Derek? I mean through your bond?"

He nodded slowly. "It never went away."

She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Huh. Tells me the bond still works, makes what you're saying even more believable. If he'd truly fallen for her the bond would have been broken. I wonder if it goes both ways, if he can feel you."

Stiles frowned. "That makes sense, I mean, it hasn't weakened at all. I can still feel his emotions, lots of things if I try. I just um, haven't been trying as much lately, you know," his voice trailed off and his face flushed.

Lydia waved her hand at him. "No worries, at least the bond is still working, that's what matters. But you're gonna need to focus on him, find out what's going on, see what he's feeling. Reach out to him maybe you might be able to communicate with him?"

"How? It's not like I'm telepathic."

"No, dumbass," Lydia rolled her eyes, "But maybe when you feel him stronger in your head you could project pain to him. If anything would break her hold on him it would be you in pain."

"Except it didn't that first night," Stiles said softly.

"Because she was powerful and it was new. Maybe she's let her guard down a bit, maybe it's gotten too easy to hold onto him and she's gotten complacent, lazy. Or you know, it's worth a try, okay?"

Rubbing a hand over his face, Stiles nodded. "Okay, it's worth a try."

She reached over and squeezed his hand. "I know it's gonna suck, but try, for all of us, okay? And when you're done, you and I are going to have a nice long chat about dreams and what they might mean."

"Yeah, okay," Stiles nodded. "Um, one more thing? She's a Fury. I’m almost sure of it. She's been one in all my dreams except the first couple."

"Wait, a Fury and a Darach? Interesting. Okay, I'll add that to the research list."

She smiled at him and pulled out her phone, already texting a mile a minute. He watched all of them as they milled around the training room before finding a quiet corner and sitting down, his back to the wall. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall, clearing his mind and reaching out trying to feel Derek. It didn't take much. Derek was always there, in his head, in his heart, everywhere.

"Derek," he murmured. He could feel him and his wolf all around him. Derek was content, his wolf was not. It bothered Stiles, it was almost as if he could see the wolf pacing on the floor in front of him, anxious, unhappy. Derek was ignoring it, ignoring his instincts. Stiles tried to ignore the wolf and focus on Derek but all he kept getting was a dense fog, so he went back to the wolf. He reached out to it and he felt it. It felt so real he let out a gasp.

"Stiles?" Allison asked from across the room.

He shook his head, waving at her that he was fine. He refocused on the wolf and once he got past the annoyance and anxiety he could feel how much the wolf missed him, how much it longed for Stiles. He reached out for it and he heard the wolf whine in his head. The sound made his heart ache like it had in his dream. Stiles clutched at his chest, gulping for air. His eyes flew open and he glanced around the room. Nobody was watching him and he swiped at his cheeks, surprised when his hand came back wet. He hadn't even realized he'd been crying.

The wolf missed him. Which meant Derek missed him. Which meant Lydia was right. The bond was still working and somewhere underneath the spell, Derek was missing him. Wanting him. _Needing_ him. Because there was no fooling the wolf and Stiles was done lying down and taking it. He was getting his Alpha back.

He closed his eyes again and concentrated on soothing the wolf. He sat down on the floor with it in his head, let it crawl up next to him, snuggle into his side and then he buried his hands and face in the fur of its neck. Distantly, he felt the pain in his tattoo ease a little, the constant ache that had been squeezed around his heart loosened a bit.

The wolf pulled back and licked at his face. Stiles stifled a giggle as the wolf playfully nipped at his neck. But then the hairs on the back of his neck rose and the wolf started to growl. It moved in front of Stiles, a gesture of protection, of shielding what belonged to it. And then Stiles heard the shrieking and his eyes popped open.

"Stiles?" Lydia asked.

Quickly he stood up, barely getting his limbs under control, his heart pounding. "She knew I was there. She must have sensed me or somehow Derek's wolf broke through or something because she knew I was there. Um, something else, Derek knows, or at least his wolf knows I was there. His wolf misses me."

"Hmm, gives even more credence to the whole 'he's under a spell' thingie. I didn't think Furies could cast spells but maybe it's her leftover magic from being an emissary? Anyway, did she say anything to you?"

"No, but I heard the shrieking," Stiles shuddered. "It's what pulled me back."

She frowned. "Furies only go after evil doers. Although, maybe that got all twisted up inside her when she sacrificed people as the Darach. Maybe somehow that loosened up the rules or something and now she can go after whatever she wants. You said in your dream that Derek said there was something big coming. Maybe the big thing coming isn't her sister Furies but her?" Her eyes lit up. "Maybe they are coming but they're coming for her?"

This time it was Stiles who frowned. "But then why would she want to isolate Derek? Last time she wanted all of our help, well you know, when she wasn't trying to kill us or our parents."

"Last time we were up against a whole pack of Alphas. Furies aren't the same. They aren't going to be evenly matched with an Alpha werewolf."

"Unless that werewolf has killed, which Derek has. Their cries could kill him. And I'm pretty sure Derek would never have trusted her considering we all thought she was dead. Which would explain the spell on Derek. After what happened the last time I'm sure he would have killed her on sight."

"Exactly," Lydia nodded. "One swipe of his claws and she'd be done. No chance for her to release the cries of those he's hurt."

"So, what the hell is she here for and why does she need him?"

"That's what we have to figure out. You need to tell me what else happens in the dreams, Stiles."

Stiles rubbed at his forehead, leaning back in his chair. "Yeah, um, okay. I replay the events of the night I found her kissing Derek, I drag my depressed carcass over to Scott and Isaac's and all of you burst in…"

"And?" Lydia prompted.

"Huh, that's where it changes."

"Every time?"

"Yeah. Every single time. The dream is always the same up to that point and then it changes. Sometimes Derek comes in offering apologies and sometimes he doesn't."

"And?"

"Well, other than the first couple of times, all of which ended up with Derek apologizing and us helping Jennifer against her sister Furies, the rest of the dreams all end in death, for him, for me, or for the Pack, the town, our parents."

"Jesus, Stiles, every night? For two months?"

Somberly, he nodded. She darted forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, the scent of gardenia and lip-gloss overwhelming him. "We're gonna figure this out."

He swallowed over the lump in his throat and nodded into her hair. She patted his back and pulled away. And something niggled at the back of his mind. He scowled trying to remember it, plucking at it. "Wait, there was something else, there was one time," he frowned harder. "There was one dream that was different from the rest. We all went away happy, well except Derek and I weren't together, they were."

"But you were happy?"

He rubbed the back of his head, fisting his hands in his hair briefly before letting it go. "Um, yeah? It was weird though, like I wanted them to ride off in the sunset together. But like, when Derek turned back to look at me? His eyes, his smile didn't reach them."

"Huh. Well, it's obvious these dreams are prophecies or at the very least trying to tell you something. Maybe it's Derek or his wolf trying to communicate with you through them. Is she a Fury in all of them?"

"Yes. But sometimes her sister Furies aren't involved."

"So she's definitely a Fury then. And maybe we'll only have to deal with her. What else is the same?"

"He's always under a spell."

"Okay. So, Jennifer's a Fury, she's got Derek under a spell. What else?"

"I'm being chased and um, trying to protect all of you? And um, you all end up dead."

"Well, okay then. We don't want that to happen. I take it that's how the dream ends?"

Miserably, Stiles nodded his head. "I watch all of you die and then I die, usually. Sometimes I get to live with the loneliness and regret."

"Oh Stiles," Lydia said softly, her eyes filling up with tears.

They sat in silence for a few minutes until Stiles looked up at her. "What do you think?"

"I think the informative stuff is true, like Derek being under a spell and the fact that she's a Fury. I think the other stuff is meant to prepare you? Get you ready for what's to come?"

"You don't think everyone dying is a prediction?"

Violently, she shook her head. "Nope. You've dreamt of all of us dying before."

"Yeah, but those were all warnings of what could happen…" his voice trailed off as he finally understood what she meant. "Of what could happen if I didn't do something about it. Oh my God, Lydia, you're a genius, a fucking genius!"

"I know," she beamed at him, eyes sparkling playfully. "Now, let's figure out how to get our broody Alpha back. First things first, we need to figure out how to break that spell or whatever it is that has him moon-eyed over her, which means we're gonna need to talk to Deaton."

"I still think he's just about the most unhelpful Giles that ever existed," Stiles grumbled, pulling out his phone.

"Yes, yes he is, but considering his life might actually be at stake this time he might prove to be more helpful then ever."

"What makes you say that?"

She smiled, an evil glint to her eyes. "Who says we have to give him _all_ the details? We just need to give him enough to get him involved and if, oh I don't know, someone were to maybe embellish on the whole town being at risk, just maybe he'll be a little more forthcoming with the help."

Immediately, Stiles started tapping on his phone. "Jesus, remind me not to get on your bad side."

"Hey, Deaton, just the man I wanted to talk to." Stiles walked away from Lydia as he spoke. "So, um, remember that thing we talked about? It might be more serious than we previously thought."

"Stiles, been having the dreams?"

"And boy howdy have I. Like Armageddon apocalypse like dreams. Remember Sunnydale and Buffy?"

Deaton sighed over the phone. "How could I forget, you mention it all the time, compare me to some stuffy British guy named Giles."

"Hey, Giles was cool. Way better than that idiot Wesley, or at least before Wesley went to LA and lost the stick up his ass. And hey, no distracting. Anyway, remember what happened to Sunnydale at the end?"

"Yes, Stiles," Deaton said with exaggerated patience. "A gigantic sink hole opened up underneath it and the entire town disappeared."

"Yeah, well, that's kind of been happening in my dreams, Beacon Hills style."

And that must have piqued Deaton's interest because even with just marginally enhanced human hearing he could hear the catch in Deaton's breath. "Tell me about the dreams, Stiles."

So Stiles proceeded to give him a heavily edited version, focusing on how everyone and everything is dead at the end. "And haven't we decided that when things die in my dreams it's because I'm not doing enough to save them in real life?"

"Yes," Deaton paused, and Stiles could almost picture him stroking his mustache. "Yes, we did. So what do we do?"

"Derek's under a spell. One cast by Jennifer, we suspect due to her latent Druidy talents. That's where you come in. What kind of spell could it be and how the fuck do we break it?"

"Hmm, I'll have to do some research, maybe contact Marin."

Stiles eyebrow rose as if he thought Deaton could see it. "Marin? Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"She knows more about Jennifer's history than anyone else and she was helpful last time."

"Like an itchy rash," Stiles snorted.

"Stiles," Deaton warned.

"What? She was the damn emissary to the Alpha pack, how the hell was that helpful? Jesus, Deaton, a lot of people ended up dead back then. You know what, whatever. Call her, don't call her, just be damn helpful this time so this entire fucking town doesn't end up in a big hole in the ground because some Fury can't let the fucking past go."

He clicked the phone off and stalked out of the training shed in a pique of anger. The last thing he needed, any of them needed, was a loose cannon. And if anyone was a loose cannon it was Marin Morrell. Couple that with the damn Hunter's Council and the apocalypse was a surety.

"Stiles?"

He turned to see Allison walking toward him.

"I talked to my Dad, about the Hunter's Council. Um, he's gonna call them, see if we can delay the visit, but he's not hopeful. He did say that they might actually help? I mean, once we get past all the formal bullshit," she sighed. "We'll make it work. Okay?"

He nodded and she smiled in return. She turned to leave.

"Hey, Allison?"

"Yeah?" She turned to look at him.

"When are they coming?"

"In two days." She looked at her watch. "Actually no, make that eighteen hours."

"Fuck. Okay, thanks."

She smiled and left him alone with his thoughts.

Eighteen hours. Eighteen fucking hours. There was no way they could break a spell, defeat a Fury, and get everything back to normal in eighteen hours. And frankly, Stiles didn't trust the Hunter's Council not to show up early. They were just as bad if not worse than the Watcher's Council on Buffy, add to that how they actually hunted werewolves and were always looking for an excuse to kill one. They were a force to be reckoned with. He sighed. "Jesus, Derek, I can't do this alone. I'm not the fucking Alpha," he whispered, staring out across his backyard.

"Stiles!" Lydia called from inside. "We need to talk!"

His heart tripped over itself and he huffed out another sigh before responding. "Coming!"

Feeling like the weight of the world was on his shoulders, he made his way back into the dojo to find Lydia tapping her foot impatiently. "What?"

"We need to talk about why you could hear the Fury when you tried to contact Derek."

"What?" he asked, confused.

"You said when you were trying to contact Derek, you met up with his wolf and you could hear the Fury."

"Yes, so?" Stiles made waving motions with his hands.

"Stiles, Furies only go after evil-doers, what the hell did you do?"

"Nothing! And wait, I thought we decided because she was a Darach that her," he flapped his hands between them, "rules and such were all fucked up. Seeing as how she murdered nine innocent people and almost murdered three parents, I'd say she's not strictly a Fury anymore, but I don't know, a Fury on crack?"

Lydia's brows knit together in thought. "Hmm, a Fury without the normal constraints. She could be a formidable enemy."

Stiles refrained from rolling his eyes. "We already decided that, remember? But you said an Alpha werewolf could kill her, just rip her throat out. It's why she's got Derek under a spell, remember?"

"Yes, but we never decided why she was here in the first place, remember? I was doing some research. It seems that, like on Charmed, if a witch becomes a Fury she can be turned back to human before she makes her first kill. Assuming that Jennifer has already made hers, that doesn't work, so she's got to resort to something else."

"Wait, why would she want to be human? I mean, she's a fucking Fury."

"Because Furies don't get to love," Lydia said softly.

And wow, that hit Stiles right in the gut. He sat down hard, clutching at his chest, his stomach roiling. "She's here for me," he whispered. "With me out of the way –"

"She could use your power to make herself human, bond herself to the Pack and Derek."

"She'd have everything she ever wanted."

"And with Derek under a spell, he'd never know the difference."

"But you all would."

Sadly, Lydia shook her head. "Maybe not. With you gone, her hold over Derek would be unopposed, he could wipe all our memories if he wanted to."

The sick feeling in Stiles' stomach grew and he started seeing spots. Immediately, he dropped his head between his knees and started breathing through his nose. Deep inhales, holding his breath for five counts and letting it out slowly.

"I'm not gonna have to kiss you again, am I?"

Letting a bitter laugh escape, Stiles kept breathing but shook his head to answer her question. He'd been right all along. She was back to take everything he ever loved from him.

"What about my Dad?" he choked out, still trying to breathe, despite feeling like his throat was closing in on him.

"I don't know."

But Stiles did. She'd kill him. There'd be no reason not to. He'd be the only obstacle in the way. "How the fuck did this happen?" he whispered. "How did she survive? How did we let her get this close? What the fuck are we gonna do? Jesus!" he scrubbed a hand at the back of his head, tugging at his hair.

It wasn't long before the others were standing there, brought over by his distress.

"Why can't I kill her?" Scott spoke up.

Stiles lifted his head and Scott flashed his eyes and a wolfish grin. "I'm an Alpha. Why can't I kill her?"

Hope suddenly flooded Stiles and he started to smile only to have it falter when he met Lydia's gaze.

"You can't," she stated flatly. "If you kill her before we break the spell, her death could kill Derek because of the potency of the spell. He feels like he's bonded to her in some weird way, breaking a bond like that could kill him. Second, everything I've read has talked about it being a born werewolf, a born Alpha."

"Derek wasn't a born Alpha though, he was Alpha by default."

"Yes, but it was still passed down to him as a birth right. Even though you're this rare thing called a True Alpha, you're not a werewolf by nature, you're one because you got bit."

"Hopes dashed," Stiles mumbled, dropping his head back into his hands.

Scott dropped his hand onto the back of Stiles' neck, and even though Scott wasn't his Alpha it still felt good. Comforting. Safe. "We'll figure this out."

Reaching up to grab Scott's hand, Stiles looked up at him. "Promise?"

"Yeah, buddy. I do. You have my word as an Alpha. We'll get your Alpha back."

Stiles squeezed his hand and Scott smiled at him reassuringly before focusing his attention on Lydia. "So, where do we stand?"

Lydia, in turn, looked around at everyone else, silently asking for an update.

"Um, the Hunter's Council will be here in two days. Less than actually. They'll probably arrive very late tomorrow night, with our first contact with them very early in the morning the next day. Dad tried to get them to postpone, but they pressed him and he might have mentioned we had a Fury that had gone rogue in town. They indicated they might be inclined to give us some information and help out if they approve of how we handle things here."

"Approve? What the hell does that mean?" Stiles asked angrily.

"I don't know," Allison shrugged helplessly. "All I know is that the Argent family is the oldest member of the Council and I can't imagine they would be willing to ignore that history."

"Yeah, well, we'll see," Stiles muttered.

"Scott?" Lydia prompted.

"Yeah, I checked all the north Sigils and Runes. They're all intact. Then um," he looked around sheepishly. "I kinda felt like I was needed back here? So I left Isaac to finish up. He's been texting me updates. He's finished all of the East and he's about halfway done with the ones on the South. Said he should be finished in about an hour or so? And be back here. Every single one of them is intact."

"Good. Although, now that we know the threat is Jennifer herself," Lydia mused before shaking her head and continuing.

"Wait, what?" Scott interrupted, beating Allison to the punch.

"Oh, right, that conversation was just between Stiles and me. Okay, let me fill you in. First, Danny said he'd have a back door into Derek's wifi by this evening. He should be able to monitor everything remotely, including whatever websites they search."

"Damn, he's a genius," Stiles said softly.

"Just like me. Stiles was able to make contact with Derek."

"What?"

"You were? What did he say?"

"Is he okay?"

Lydia held up her hand, stopping any further questions. "His wolf, so he didn't say anything, just confirmed that the bond between them and between Stiles and the Pack was still very much intact and that Derek was under some sort of spell."

"Damn," Scott said softly.

"Yeah, damn is right. Stiles called Deaton, he's supposed to get back to us on how to break the spell. I think he was going to call Marin."

"What?" Scott protested. "I mean, I know I saved her and all, but it's not like she was ever really on our side."

"I know, but Deaton did have a point, that she was the one with the most knowledge about Jennifer's history, other than Jennifer and Kali, and since Kali is dead and Jennifer is who we're after, she's our best bet. Also," Lydia paused, taking a deep breath, glancing over at Stiles. "Stiles is the target. This whole thing is so she can have control of Derek and the Pack. She would be an emissary again, to the Pack that defeated the Alphas. Arguably the most powerful Pack in the United States."

"Holy shit," Allison said softly.

"Yeah," Stiles repeated, hanging his head again and trying to focus on his breathing.

"Are we sure I can't kill her?" Scott asked, claws out and eyes flashing red.

A sharp burst of laughter exploded out of Stiles and it lightened the tension in the room. Because Scott, was no killer but here he was, wanting it so bad he could probably taste it. Stiles met Scott's eyes again, still flashing red. "Thanks buddy, but no, you can't."

"Stiles is right, the research is pretty clear that only a born wolf can and usually only an Alpha, considering how powerful she probably is? It's gotta be an alpha."

"Which means it's gotta be Derek," Stiles said quietly. "Which means we need to break the spell first. Someone call Deaton back. I think if I talk to him again I might try to reach through the phone and Force choke him."

Scott pulled out his phone and walked away, obviously calling the vet. Stiles flexed his fingers, shaking his hands out before folding them together again. He looked up as Allison spoke up hesitantly.

"I," she glanced around nervously. "I think we should talk about the Hunter's Council? I know they aren't going to show up until tomorrow night, or at least they aren't supposed to, but that won't stop them from coming early or dropping in unannounced. They're going to try to corner all of us, talk to us, question us."

"What kind of questions?" Lydia interrupted her.

Anxiously, Allison tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, smiling a tiny bit before continuing. "About the Pack, how we run things, how the truce was made, what it entails. They're gonna delve into the entire history of the past few years, everything. From like the second Derek came back up until now."

"What about before? No offense Allison, but are they going to dig a little deeper? Maybe talk about how it was one of their own that killed his entire family? Because, really? They should start there. They should start with the pedophile predator that went after a child and then burned his family alive. Jesus."

Stiles stood up and walked away. The bitterness and anger rolling off him filled the room and he needed some fresh air. He walked out into the yard again. Stood off to the side, hands on his hips, head hanging down. It wasn't long before Isaac appeared by his side. "All the Sigils and Runes are in place and working just fine. Wanna talk about what's going on?"

Another bark of laughter burst out of Stiles, a hysterical edge to it. "Derek's under a spell from a rogue Fury who wants to kill me so she can be emissary to the most powerful Pack in the United States. The Hunter's Council is here to judge all of us, completely ignoring the fact that one of their own was worse than all of us combined. And Deaton is his usual cryptic non-helpful assholey self."

"So, business as usual then," Isaac said, clapping Stiles on the back.

"Huh," Stiles huffed. "Yeah, I guess when you put it that way. At least we don't have an entire pack of Alphas riding our ass while an evil Darach is sacrificing virgins and others in order to get her revenge."

"Yeah, or you know an entire horde of Fae heading here intent on revenge because their princess was deflowered on our territory, even though she was the one that ran away from them."

"Yeah, that was pretty sucktastic," Stiles murmured.

"As I recall, you almost died that time. Derek almost went feral."

The memory hit Stiles hard, like sucker punch to the gut hard. Isaac was right. He'd been injured, skewered with some magical Fae sword and had almost bled out before Deaton and Melissa were able to stitch him together and sprinkle some magical herb fairy dust over his wound to heal him. When they'd finished, Derek had scooped him up, carried him back to the loft, had literally ran through town with Stiles in his arms and locked them away in his loft. He hadn't let anyone near them for almost three days.

He'd taken care of Stiles' every need, fed him, tended his wound, bathed him, and held him at night when flashbacks from the battle, and the drugs Deaton had given him, gave him night terrors. Stiles had finally convinced him on the third day that things would be okay. He'd let Derek scent mark him like crazy, even going so far as to give Stiles another collar of bite marks and man that had been fun explaining to his Dad.

"Yeah, he did, didn't he," Stiles mused, his brain going a mile a minute.

"No." Isaac stated flatly.

"What? I didn't say anything."

"No, but you're thinking and that's not always a good thing."

"Hey, not true. My thinking has saved your wolfy ass more than once. Lydia!" he yelled, running back into the dojo.

Breathlessly he ran up to her. "I have an idea. Actually, Isaac here just gave me a wicked genius idea. It kind of goes along with what you said earlier about me projecting pain to Derek?"

Her eyebrow quirked up and she waved her hand in a gesture to get him to continue.

"Use me as bait."

"What?"

"Use me as bait. For Derek."

Lydia frowned. "I don't get it."

"Look, in all the fairytales, the Disney versions, it's always true love that wins out." He pulled his shirt aside, pointing to his tattoo. "This. This means we're mates. Wolves mate for life. Or well, they're serial monogamists, but tomato, tomahto. Derek said I was it for him. On numerous occasions. Lydia, he turned feral when I was injured by the Fae, remember that? Because he thought I was going to die."

"No, because you were dying. What are you suggesting Stiles? That we attempt to kill you? That we drop you off outside his loft, bleeding out? Hoping that he'll smell your blood and come wolfed out to your rescue, the remnants of Jennifer's spell dropping off him like yesterday's clothes? You cannot be serious!"

"It's worth a try!"

"No, it isn't. Don't even say that. Are you listening to yourself? Jesus, Stiles, I thought you were supposed to be smart!"

"I can't lose him Lydia," Stiles said softly. "And I can't risk being killed by her, my Dad…" his voice broke and he looked away from her, swallowing hard over the lump of tears clogging his throat.

"I know Stiles, which is why we're going to stick to the plan. And where the hell is Scott? How long does it take to drag some answers out of that wannabe Giles?" Lydia roared, her voice echoing through the room.

Stiles lips twitched in a bit of a smirk as Scott came running back in, hanging up the phone. As Scott got closer, the smirk slid off his face, his lips pressed in a thin, tight line. "I got the answer but you're not going to like it. Remember how we saved our parents?"

Lydia and Stiles nodded slowly and suddenly the pit in Stiles' stomach opened up and it felt like it was going to swallow him whole from the inside out. "I knew it." He looked up at Lydia. "I told you."

Angrily, he got up and stalked off, hands clenching in and out of fists. He shook his hands, flexing his wrists as Scott jogged over to him with Lydia close behind. "I'm not getting in that fucking ice water bath again. Drowning was like the worst thing ever. I’m not doing that again."

Although, somewhere in his head he thought it might be poetic, drowning to save Derek. He'd already done that. Well, almost, when he'd saved him from the kanima.

"No, not the ice water bath. Deaton says there's an easier way, a better way, although, it does involve cooling you down. But you'd be sedated."

"Wait, sedated? Won't that be asking for trouble? When you drown someone in ice water the two deaths are fighting each other. The hypothermia is what helps keep the drowning from being a permanent death. But if you add sedation which further slows down the body's response," her voice trailed off. "You know, that just might work and maybe the water wouldn't have to be so cold. His heart would have to stop at some point, for a few seconds, so Derek could feel the threat to the bond –"

"Don’t you mean break? Won't my dying actually break the bond? And you know, kill both of us? Maybe the entire Pack?"

Lydia shook her head firmly. "You won't actually be dead. Remember in Buffy, the season one finale? Where she drowned but Xander brought her back to life? It would be like that."

"Yeah, like that, when a second slayer was called, splintering the whole Slayer line leading up toward the apocalypse. That turned out so well for them," Stiles said wryly.

"Stiles, Deaton is convinced this will work. He didn't even give me the usual cryptic crap or even that 'I said this was dangerous' load of crap he gave us when we did this before. He sounded determined and sure of himself over the phone and he wasn't lying. Can we at least try?" Scott implored.

Stiles took a deep breath, sliding his hands up and down his thighs, the fabric of his cotton sweats worn thin at the knees. "Well, I guess being sedated and drowned in an ice bath is better than bleeding out alone on Derek's doorstep. What does Deaton think will happen? I mean, will Derek come running? Will he feel pain? And what about Jennifer? Will she know? And how will we know it worked?"

"And that's why we need to go see him. He didn't give me all those details over the phone. Just said he had a plan he believed would work and gave me what I just told you."

"Right, right, of course he did," Stiles mumbled, standing up and starting to pace. "You know, for once I would really like a plan that didn't involve me or Derek as bait or almost dying. For once I would like someone to not be using Derek, practically mind-raping him. He's had enough shit in his life and she's done this twice now. We need to put this bitch in the ground and be done with it." He turned a steely-eyed gaze on all of them in turn. "Grab your stuff, I'm got a date with an ice bath."

He turned on his heel and left the dojo, jogging quickly back into the house to change into something a little less comfortable and to pack a bag with a change of clothes. No way was he going to stay in sopping wet ice-cold clothes all night. He'd learned that lesson the hard way. When he was ready to go the entire Pack was waiting for him out front. "Let's go," he growled, yanking open the door of his Jeep.

The Pack scattered to their respective cars and Stiles took off, leading them all toward the vet clinic, toward their solution or their doom. Obviously, he hoped it was the former. And seriously, once he got them out of this mess, he was going to tie Derek down to the bed or put a damn leash on him so Stiles could keep an eye on him and keep shit like this from happening ever again.

Sitting at a red light, he thought about calling his Dad, giving him a heads up. But what the hell do you say in a phone call like that? 'Dad I just called to say I love you and I'm off to go sedate and drown myself to break a love spell one of Derek's fucking exes put on him so she could kill me and take my place in the Pack?' Yeah, Stiles could totally see himself giving his Dad that brief. Better to just leave him in the dark and hope for the best. Hope that his Dad never found out what he was about to go do.

The drive to Deaton's didn't take long, which was probably a good thing. Stiles remembered the last time he did something like this; it wasn't pleasant. He suspected this time wasn't going to be much better. Probably worse, because the sedative would doubtless leave him feeling hungover and loopy on a good day. Now, with a distinct lack of sleep over the last few weeks? Stiles shuddered.

He pulled into a parking spot at the vet clinic and shut off the Jeep. "I can do this. I can do this." He whispered to himself, taking several deep breaths in an attempt to psych himself up. But then he felt a tug through the bond, his tattoo throbbed and he knew it was Derek.

"I'm coming," he said softly and wasted no more time in getting out of his Jeep and heading to the door.

Deaton was waiting for him. "Stiles. Are you ready for this?" he asked gravely.

Quickly, Stiles nodded. "Everyone else is on their way. I – " he let out a nervous laugh. "I was a little anxious to get here?"

A warm hand squeezed his shoulder. "We'll fix this Stiles."

Suddenly at a loss for words, Stiles gulped and nodded his head. "Yeah. Yeah."

He could already hear car doors slamming outside, knew the rest of the Pack was about to join them. "You gotta bring me back, Doc. You have to."

"I'll do my best, Stiles." Deaton replied, giving him one of his infuriating and enigmatic smiles.

The Pack burst through the door before Stiles could say anything else and then there was a flurry of activity. Isaac and Scott were filling the tub. Danny was standing in the corner holding a four-way text conversation with Ethan, Aiden, and Cora. Allison and Lydia were going through last minute instructions of what to do if things went wrong and Stiles shook his head. Nope, not going to listen to that. Instead he focused on Scott and Isaac. The two were trying to remain lighthearted about this whole thing.

"So, you taking pictures of Stilinski when he comes out of the water?" Isaac asked.

"Hah, you know it. Last time his nipples were perky for over an hour."

"Hey!" Stiles protested from across the room. He glared at Scott because seriously now was not the time to be discussing his nipples. Scott just winked at him and Isaac's grin grew mischievous. Stiles rolled his eyes. He knew they were trying to take his mind off what was actually happening and he was grateful, even if it was mostly failing.

He let out a sigh and took his shoes and socks off along with his watch and pulled his phone out of his pocket, handing it to Scott. Scott took it and slipped it into his own back pocket. He turned away and Stiles grabbed his elbow. He jerked his head to the side, indicating he wanted Scott to follow him.

There wasn't anywhere to go to get out of Isaac's earshot, but at least moving to the corner of the room, gave Stiles the illusion of privacy.

"Stiles?"

"Look, um, I need you to do something for me."

"Anything, you know that."

"If," Stiles swallowed hard, clenching his hands into fists at his sides. "If something happens, you have to promise you'll help Derek. Make him understand this was my choice and Jesus, do your best to make sure he doesn't blame himself."

"Stiles –"

Stiles held up his hand, stemming Scott's interruption, meeting his eyes, his jaw tight with determination. "And take care of my Dad. I don't know, he and your mom have kind of been dancing around each other for years. Maybe give them a shove in the right direction. Just take care of him, please?"

"Stiles, nothing is going to happen." Scott protested.

"Scott, promise me," Stiles insisted, wrapping his hands around Scott's biceps.

"Okay," Scott answered, pulling Stiles into an embrace. "I promise. I'll take care of them both for you. But nothing's going to happen."

Stiles nodded against Scott's chest, willing the hot tears waiting behind his eyes to stay where they were. "Yeah, everything's gonna be fine," he whispered hoarsely over the great big ball of fear in his throat.

Scott's arms tightened around him until Deaton stepped over to them.

"It's time."

Giving a terse nod, Stiles clapped Scott on the back and stepped away from him. Determination was in each step he took back into the exam room, toward the tub filled with ice water. An involuntary shiver went up and down his spine, a sense memory from the last time. Absentmindedly, he reached a hand up and stroked a thumb over the tattoo hidden under his shirt.

Last time he'd used his Dad's badge. This time he was using something a bit more attached to link him to Derek. The tattoo. It bound him to the Pack and to Derek, he couldn't think of anything more suited for what he was about to do.

"Okay. Just like before. Lydia will be your connection here. I know you've grown closer with Scott and Isaac, and frankly the whole Pack, but you're trying to link up with your Alpha and using another wolf will only muddy things up."

"Don't want that," Stiles laughed nervously.

"No," Deaton smiled, "You really don't.

Stiles glanced around, met everyone's eyes in turn. Allison gave him an encouraging smile but Stiles could see the worry in her eyes. Danny gave him a quick nod and waved his phone, indicating that the others were right there with him. Stiles gave him a mock salute that Danny returned with a smile. Isaac was right next to Allison and Stiles didn't miss the way she was holding his hand so tightly that if he'd been human, he would have been wincing. Instead, he was staring at Stiles, grim resignation on his face, he nodded and Stiles nodded back. He looked over at Lydia and her lips were in a thin tight line and Stiles could see the steely look in her eyes and knew Deaton had made the right choice. Lydia would get the job done.

Finally, he turned back to look at Scott.

"Stiles –"

"I know."

With that he gave Deaton a nod. Deaton moved forward and pushed Stiles' sleeve up. He swiped a spot on his bicep with alcohol and then jabbed him with a syringe. "Okay, sedative should take affect pretty quickly, it's fast acting."

"Thanks," Stiles replied, rolling his sleeve down as he stepped into the bathtub. Slowly he sank down, letting his body adjust as much as it could to the dramatic drop in temperature. Almost instantly he started to shiver and he knew his teeth would start chattering any second. He wanted to be under before that could happen. "See ya'll on the flip side." He looked up at Lydia as she put her hands on his shoulders. "Let's do this."

Nodding grimly, she pushed as he let himself sink under the water. It felt peaceful, just like the last time, those first few seconds. It was only after about a minute that his lungs started to burn, that the pressure in his chest increased and he thought about opening his mouth to take a gulp of air. The need increased as his senses started to dull and he felt his heart slowing down. The sedative. Before the burning desire to breathe became impossible to ignore, Stiles sank into the darkness.

He burst out of the tub, wiping his eyes and looking around frantically. This time it was dark. There was no big white room with a dying nematon in it, waiting to be found. The room he was in now was damp, dark, and scary as shit. There was something out there, he could hear it, snuffling and growling in the darkness.

The timbre of the growl hit Stiles right in the gut. Whatever it was, it was an Alpha. _Fuck._ He wiped his face off again, patting his pockets, knowing he didn't have a weapon. He squinted, trying to see in the darkness, but there was nothing. It was just a dank, dark, dirty room. Like something out of a horror movie, where the killer chained the girl up and she waited for whatever horrible things were going to befall her.

Wait. Stiles brain kicked into high gear as he looked around. His ears picked up something in the background. It sounded like metal scraping against metal and there was the growling again. "Jesus," he whispered as everything fell into place.

"Derek?" he called out into the black. "Jesus, Derek, is that you? Growl, yip, show me those silvery red eyes of yours. Something. I can't see shit, but I know you're here."

There was a low-pitched whine from somewhere in front of him and his tattoo throbbed with it. "Okay, okay, I hear you, I'm coming."

Slowly, as quietly as possible, Stiles started moving forward. The darkness swallowed him up and instinctively he widened his eyes in a vain attempt to see anything. "Come on Der, show me those pretty Alpha eyes of yours, please?"

Another growl and then about twenty feet in front of him Stiles saw two silver-ringed red glowing orbs. "Thank God, Derek," he cried out in relief, stumbling forward toward the eyes. He slid to his knees when he finally reached the dark mass. It was larger than him, from what he could see.

Stiles reached out blindly and buried his hands in fur. "Derek," he said softly.

The wolf whimpered and shifted underneath him, only to cry out in pain. Immediately, Stiles sat up, swiftly moving his hands up and down the wolf's massive body. He could feel the ribs underneath the skin, the hipbones poking up sharply under his palms. And every single bump and groove of its spine. "Fuck, Derek, what is she doing to you?"

"Draining the life out of him, of course."

Stiles spun around looking for her. "Shit," he whispered.

The wolf growled softly and Stiles huddled closer, waiting. But after several minutes there was nothing else so he went back to his cautious exam. From what he could tell, the wolf was extremely malnourished and neglected. Nothing but skin and bones, raw in some places because it had been chained up for so long. Its fur was matted in other spots and came off in clumps when Stiles tried to gently work his fingers through it.

"Jesus, Derek, I had no idea. Oh my fucking God, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I waited and just let you dictate what was happening. Oh my God you have the worst taste in women. Jesus," Stiles laughed bitterly, ignoring the tears that were sliding down his face.

"Fuck," he muttered when he felt the silver shackles around the back two hind legs.  The skin underneath was open and bleeding and hot to the touch.

"Jesus, fuck," Stiles swore, rubbing a hand over his face. "Derek, you're in bad shape. We gotta get you outta here."

"Oh, I don't think so," Jennifer's voice sounded again in the darkness, suitably threatening enough to make Stiles shiver.

"Fuck you, bitch. What the hell are you doing to him?" Stiles demanded angrily.

A bitter laugh sounded through the room or maybe it was an evil cackle, didn't really matter, either way it sounded like nails on a chalkboard to Stiles. "Do you have any idea how much energy it takes to survive what you all did to me? And then being left for dead?"

"Hey, we didn't leave you for dead. You were dead. You're the one who crawled off someplace, obviously not dead. How many lives do you fucking have anyway? Damn it, you're like a fucking cat."

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest; he hadn't really thought this part through. He'd figured he'd break the bond and Derek would see the light and come find him. He hadn't expected her to be draining his life, using his power to keep herself alive.

"Wait, you're a Fury, why do you need Derek's power to keep you alive?" Stiles narrowed his eyes at where he thought she might be.

"Don’t you see? There's a chance for me. I don't have to become a Fury. I'm a Druid –"

"Were a Druid. Now you're a Darach, there's a big damn difference."

"Really Stiles? You're going to argue semantics with me while Derek is dying? Tsk tsk, I thought you were smarter than that."

"What are you going to do when he's dead? Find the next Alpha?"

"No, I was thinking one of the Fae next. They're supposed to be pretty powerful."

"It's like you're a Succubus," he stated, trying to keep the horror out of his voice at the mere thought of her going from one victim to the next, draining the life out of them to hold onto hers.

"I guess that's one way you could put it. Let's just say I'm using my powers to keep myself alive at the expense of others. Not truly a Succubus because I don't do it through sex."

"Well, then how do you do it?" Stiles asked.

"Oh Stiles, that would be telling."

He let out a dark chuckle. "Well you know me, I like to know things."

"Well, have you seen Derek lately?"

Stiles thought for a moment, reached out through the bond, felt Derek's presence. He felt alive and well. "No."

"Trust me, he's alive and kicking. I wouldn't say the same thing for his wolf though."

The wolf snarled at her, feebly attempting to stand under Stiles' hands. "You're not killing Derek, you're killing his wolf."

"Bingo. Got it in one."

Stiles' mind raced, putting things together. "You don't kill the person, just their supernatural side. The side that makes them more."

"Exactly. Couldn't leave another string of bodies in my wake. Not now."

"Because you're a not a full Fury yet. You won't be until you make your first kill. Jesus, you found a loophole. You stay a Druid with all the powers and abilities of a Fury but never actually become one because you don't actually kill someone. But how do you get past the whole 'making evil-doers pay for their crimes by hearing the sounds of all their victims' thing?"

"I keep my mouth shut," Jennifer snapped.

"Right," Stiles said softly, continuing to run his hands through the wolf's fur.

"You mean more to him than I thought."

"What do you mean?"

"That wolf is starving, it's a wonder he hasn't eaten you yet."

"Yeah, well, he probably knows I wouldn't taste very good, all skin, bones, and sarcasm."

"I could make him eat you," she whispered and Stiles could feel her breath against his ear.

He couldn't hide the flinch and the wolf responded, growling menacingly at her.

"Shut up, Derek, like you can do anything in your condition."

The wolf snapped at her, struggling to its feet, growling and barking at her. She just laughed. "I’d best be running along. Derek will wonder where I've gone. Have fun, Stiles. Enjoy your last few moments with your mate. When I'm done with him? He won't even remember who you were."

"Wait! What about me? I mean, why separate us?" He had to know for sure that they were right about the rest.

Jennifer's laugh echoed through the darkness. "Oh Stiles, don't tell me you didn't have this figured out already. With you out of the picture, I can become the Pack emissary, stop draining power from just Derek, and take over your place in the Pack. Unlimited power, renewed each full moon, not to mention all the others I can steal from as well. I'll be the most powerful emissary in the world. Why wouldn't I want that? So long, Stiles."

Pain stabbed Stiles right in the heart at the thought of Derek forgetting him, of Derek not being Derek, and the Pack under her control. He buried his face in the wolf's neck, breathing in the earthy musky scent of it. "What am I gonna do? Think Stiles, think."

The wolf huffed out a breath and collapsed back down to the floor, sinking under Stiles' weight. Stiles leaned up against him, combing his fingers through the fur as he wracked his brain trying to figure out how to make his plan still work.

It wasn't a simple matter of stopping his heart anymore, attempting to force a temporary break to the bond. It might kill the wolf because it was so weak. "Shit," Stiles muttered to himself, banging a fist against his forehead, trying helplessly to think of a solution.

"Okay, we need to let human Derek know that he's killing his wolf, wake him up to what she's blinding him from. When you all were blinded before, it took fire. So pain would work. But you're already in pain."

The wolf snuffled again, nosing against Stiles. "Maybe it's not physical pain, maybe it's emotional pain? But how do I cause emotional pain to human Derek when I'm stuck here with you?"

The wolf growled as if it took offense to that statement. Stiles grinned and then the smile dropped off his face. He knew exactly how to cause Derek intense emotional pain.

"Shit," he whispered, his heart thudding against his chest, the tattoo throbbing and his stomach dropping to his knees. "He'll never forgive me."

He stood up and started looking around the room. It wasn't as big as the white room had been. This was really more of a shack then a room. An old abandoned shack. Stiles walked the entire room, peered in all the dark corners, going so far as to feel around on the floor in the dark, half scared of what he might find, but determined to keep looking for what he needed. Except by the end he came up empty-handed. The room was completely bare. There was nothing he could use to hurt himself, not even a scrap piece of metal.

"Fuck!" he yelled in frustration. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" he kicked at the dirt. He glanced over at the wolf who was watching him with barely concealed interest.

Stiles' shoulders slumped in resignation. There wasn't any other way. He was gonna have to get the wolf to bite him. He held his hands out in supplication. "Look, I know this isn't ideal, but seeing as how I'm here and it doesn't look like I'm going back until I accomplish what I came here to do, I'm gonna need you to do something for me.  I know this probably goes against all your will or whatnot, but you have to bite me, and I'm not talking about a playful nip to the fingers. I mean really bite me, like life-threatening bite."

The wolf just cocked its head at Stiles and the look on its face was almost as familiar as the one Derek would sport when Stiles would put forth one of his crazier ideas. It clearly said the wolf thought he was insane.

"I know, I know, look I don't want this either, but it's the only way to help him, to help you. He needs to remember that you're still here and he needs to remember that I am too. I mean my bond with the Pack should help keep me alive? I hope? But he needs to think I'm dying, he needs to feel it through our bond. So yeah, you have to bite me. Can you do that?"

The wolf just yawned and laid its head back down onto its paws. Stiles sighed. "What am I gonna do? How can I get you to bite me?"

He walked over and sat down in front of the wolf. He carded his fingers through the fur on its head. "I know you don't want to do this, hell, you probably don't even have the energy to do it. But we have to. So please, would you bite me?"

Stiles took his hand off the wolf's head and held it in front of its mouth. "Tantalizing boy flesh and blood here, right under your nose. Just one bite, please? Actually, that would just be the start, you should probably go for my throat, but you know don't actually rip it out? I know the Pack can heal me, but I’m not sure how much."

The wolf opened its jaws and Stiles' heart sped up but the wolf just stuck its tongue out and licked at Stiles' wrist. It almost looked happy.

"Please?" Stiles whispered.

The wolf licked him again, before wrapping its teeth gently around Stiles' wrist, tugging at him until Stiles was leaning up against his side. Only then did the wolf let Stiles go. "Shit," Stiles muttered.

He felt a shudder run through the wolf and suddenly its breathing became labored. Time was running out. "Okay, okay, I can do this."

Stiles pulled away from the wolf. "You have to bite me," he stated flatly. "I'm just gonna lie down here, at your mouth, my neck bared and you're just gonna have to do it."

Maneuvering himself until he was under the wolf's mouth wasn't as easy as it sounded. The wolf was huge and Stiles couldn't even attempt to move him, he had to wiggle and slide his head in between the wolf's paws while the wolf honest to God quirked an eye at him. If the situation hadn't been so dire, Stiles would have laughed. Instead, he had to swallow hard over the lump in his throat and blink back the hot tears threatening to spill over.

"Come on big guy, put your teeth in me. Nice tasty flesh and blood just inches away. Please?" Stiles voice cracked and a tear slid down his face. When the wolf did nothing except open its mouth to pant, the desperation Stiles was feeling got worse.

"Come on you big dumb dog, bite me!" He shouted at it, tears flowing freely down his face. "Come on!"

He flicked it on the nose with his finger and the wolf just shook its head and panted harder. Closing his eyes and asking for forgiveness, Stiles pulled his hand back and hit the wolf right on the nose, hard, with the flat of his hand. "Bite me!" he yelled _sobbed_ out.

The wolf drew back and sat up on its haunches, barely giving Stiles the stink eye before deliberately looking away from him.

Stiles scrambled to his feet, reaching out and hitting the wolf again, flinching when it did. "Bite me!" he choked out, "For God's sake, stop being such a damn martyr and help me save you! Please, Derek, don't do this. Please. You have to bite me," he yelled again, tears blurring his vision as he felt them dripping off his chin and soaking the front of his shirt.

He struck out at the wolf again and this time it growled at him in warning, but Stiles ignored it in favor of cuffing it on the side of the head. The wolf whimpered but sat back up staring at him defiantly. Stiles wiped his face on his sleeve, clearing some of the snot and tears away, but they both just kept coming. His heart pounding, feeling like it was going to break apart in a million pieces in his chest, he begged the wolf. "Please, I don't want to hurt you, but you have to bite me. Please don't let me keep doing this. Just, please, please bite me. I can't leave him with her; I can't leave you like this. I can't let you die. Either of you. Please."

When the wolf did nothing, Stiles let out a broken sob and drew back his foot. "I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry," and he kicked the wolf in the ribs, sobbing as he heard the bones crack. The wolf cried out in pain and turned on him snarling, burying its teeth in his throat.

Relief washed over Stiles as the wolf took him down and he felt the warmth of his own blood coating his skin. "Thank you," he said softly, wrapping an arm around the wolf's neck. "Tell him, tell him I love him, that I would die for him. Make sure he knows that."

The wolf drew back and howled, the sound so full of pain that the shattered remains of Stiles heart scattered like ash. He coughed and blood gurgled up into his mouth. The wolf whimpered and lay back down next to him, lapping at his neck, whining.

Stiles smiled. "It's okay. It's okay. I love you," he whispered sinking into the darkness, but just before he did, he would have sworn he heard Derek yell his name.

"STILES!"

The sound was so full of raw ache and anger that it made Stiles' tattoo throb and he reached up to place his hand over it. "Derek," he said and went still.

*********

Stiles bolted up out of the water, coughing, he could still taste the blood in his mouth. He turned to look up at Scott and Lydia in alarm as he realized it wasn't a memory. He was coughing up blood.

"Oh my God!" Scott yelled. "Deaton, Stiles is hurt."

He turned back to Stiles. "What happened? Is Derek?"

But all Stiles could do was slump back into the water, his throat feeling like it had been ripped out by a wolf, because it had, in the dreamscape even if not here.

"Stiles!" Scott grabbed him up under his armpits and yanked him out of the ice water. Stiles barely felt Scott carrying him over to one of the tables, the cold metal stiff and unyielding underneath him.

"There's no injury," Scott yelled, "I don't see anything."

"That's because it's mystical," Deaton said matter-of-factly, snapping on some gloves. "Let me take a look." Carefully, he probed over Stiles' throat while Stiles watched him with heavy eyes and bloody lips.

"S'verdict, doc?" Stiles coughed out, spraying blood onto his chin and Deaton's gloves.

The vet gave Scott a grave look and minutely shook his head.

"No, NO!" Scott screamed, dragging Stiles off the table and into his arms as he sank down to the floor. Everyone crowded around them, the entire Pack trying to get their hands on Stiles. The momentary relief of his breathing allowed Stiles enough of a respite to smile up at Scott. "Hey, buddy."

Scott looked down at him, tears filling his eyes. "Stiles," he said, cupping Stiles' cheek with his hand. "Hold on Stiles, okay? We're all here for you. Did – did it work?"

Unable to speak again, Stiles nodded. He coughed again and Scott winced, his hold on him going tighter. "I heard him yell my name right before I woke up back here."

"Well, let's hope he's on his way because I think you're gonna need him. Where are the rest? Cora? Ethan? Aiden? All of you should be here," Deaton said, the Derek part left unsaid.

"Will phone presence work?" Lydia asked from where she was holding Stiles' hand. "We can get them on the phone."

"Do it," Deaton ordered, "It's better than nothing. And someone get his jeans and t-shirt off, he's going to need skin to skin contact."

Lydia whipped out her phone with her other hand and started dialing. "Someone call Cora, tell her to get her ass over here, her apartment's not that far and have her get Peter on the phone." When everyone looked at her in surprise, she explained, "We may not like him, we may even in fact, hate him, but he's still connected to this Pack and if anyone has his number, it's Cora. And as much as Stiles hates it, Peter has a soft spot for him, he won't let him die, not if he can help."

Quickly, Isaac whipped out his phone and dialed Cora. "Stiles is in trouble, we need you at Deaton's and you need to get Peter on the phone when you get here." He listened for a moment and then clicked off. "She's leaving now, she'll be here as soon as she can."

He closed his eyes as he drew off more of Stiles pain from where his hand was wrapped around his ankle. "Come on, Stiles, don't do this to us. We need you."

"Ethan's calling Aiden," Danny said softly, budging in beside Allison. "He'll call back as soon as he gets in touch with him," he laid his hand on Stiles' thigh.

"Come on, Stiles, please?" Allison whispered, from her position next to Isaac, her hand wrapped around his calf, right next to Isaac's.

Danny's hand was gripping Stiles' thigh so tight that his knuckles were turning white. "Stiles, I swear to God if you die, I will help your Dad find your porn stash on your computer."

"Rude," Stiles coughed out causing a few of the Pack to chuckle as the tension eased somewhat.

Scott cocked his head. "Cora's almost here."

Stiles closed his eyes, tried to focus on his breathing. It was a tiny bit easier, but his throat still felt like it was crushed. What they were doing wasn't enough. He wasn't sure any of it was going to be enough, but if he'd saved Derek, then it was worth it.

Cora rushed into the room, dropping down by Stiles' side and sliding her hand onto his belly. Immediately the veins in her arm turned black and she shuddered. "Hey, Stiles," her voice wavered.

She grappled through her pants, digging her phone out and dialing. She hit the speaker button. "Shut up and listen," she growled as soon as Peter said hello, his laconic drawl sending shivers coursing through Stiles' body. "Stiles is hurt, dying possibly. You're too far away to get here in time, so you're helping via phone. I'm not even sure how that works, but I'm putting the phone on Stiles leg right now. Start talking."

Just as Peter started talking, Danny's phone rang. "Ethan, thank God. Stiles is hurt. I'm putting you on speaker, just talk."

Lydia did the same when Aiden finally called her back and soon Stiles had three cellphones resting on his legs, vibrating with the voices of the three missing members of their rag-tag Pack.

They all watched Stiles in silence, Scott stroking the side of Stiles face with his thumb. "Hang in there, buddy, you're doing great."

Silence hung heavy over the room, save for Stiles' labored breathing, some wet-sounding coughs, and the tinny voices of Peter, Ethan, and Aiden as they kept talking about nothing and everything. Cora's hand dug into Stiles' belly and he groaned. "Sorry, sorry, um, I think Derek's on his way. I can feel him."

"Can you feel him Stiles?" Deaton asked from his position just outside the circle.

Stiles closed his eyes, concentrated on his tattoo, on the bond he shared with Derek and slowly nodded his head. The connection was faint, but it was there, he could feel Derek tugging on it, trying to locate him. The closer Derek got the stronger the emotions Stiles was picking up from him. "He's angry," he choked out, spitting up more blood. "Desperate, in pain."

"Okay, everyone, move, make some room, he's gonna beeline for Stiles and anyone that gets in his way is gonna get hurt," Scott ordered.

Everyone scrambled to follow his instructions, all of them shifting to the side of Stiles' body the furthest from the door, except for Cora, who remained where she was, hand on his belly, eyes closed, lips moving in some unknown chant.

A few seconds later Derek burst through the door in full Alpha form, his wolf snarling, silver-ringed red eyes flashing. He stalked over to Stiles' body, growling at Scott, who simply growled softly back in return. Derek whined, sinking down to the floor, resting his muzzle right over Stiles' heart.

"Hey big guy," Stiles whispered, reaching his hand out and dropping it onto the top of Derek's head, running his fingers through his fur. "You made it."

The wolf pulled away and Derek shifted, leaving him lying naked on his belly on the floor next to Stiles, staring into his eyes. He linked their hands together, fingers twined so closely an outsider wouldn't have been able to tell who's was who's. "I'm sorry," he said; regret filling his voice, so much that it brought tears to Stiles' eyes.

"Don't be." Stiles coughed again. "Not your fault." And he meant it, he knew his heartbeat was strong and true, every wolf in the room would know it wasn't a lie.

"Don't leave me," Derek pleaded, tightening his grip on Stiles' hand and bending Stiles' arm until their hands were resting over Stiles' heart and his tattoo.

Stiles felt the tattoo flare to life again, the first time in over a month and he arched into the sensation, gasping out in surprise. "Fuck," he breathed out, before slumping back to the ground and into the darkness.

*********

_Stiles was back in the room with the wolf. "Oh fuck no, are you kidding me?" He flailed his arms in exasperation. But then Jennifer was there, a knife to the wolf's throat._

_"You for him."_

_"No! You can't do this, you can't!" Stiles begged._

_Suddenly the knife was against his throat and the wolf was scrabbling desperately at the floor, biting at the shackles chaining him in place._

_Back and forth, the knife to both their throats, so fast it made Stiles' head spin. The more she switched the harder they tried to reach each other until it was just the two of them fighting and snarling and scrambling to fight their way across the room to each other._

_It was Stiles that broke loose first, running to the wolf, skidding to his side. The wolf stood up, moved over Stiles, protecting him and growling in the darkness. The wolf shuddered and whimpered above him and Stiles could feel the blows as they rained down on the wolf's back but the wolf just stood still and took all of it._

_"STOP!" Stiles yelled. "I won't let you do this." He reached up and grabbed the wolf's face. "I won't let you do this again. Let me fight for you. You deserve to have someone be your hero for a change."_

_The wolf slumped down beside Stiles, licking weakly at his neck almost as if he was saying, 'okay.'_

_Stiles turned to the darkness. "And you, you deserve peace. You won't be the overlooked anymore. None of the emissaries will be. Deaton and I've made sure of that. What happened to you, to the others, everyone knows. I promise. What happened to you will never happen to anyone ever again. You've gotten your revenge, several times over. Please let us have our peace as well."_

_A scream of pain, regret, and sadness echoed through the black._

Stiles woke up gasping, covered in a cold sweat and clutching at his chest, his tattoo. "No," he whispered, the sharp smell of antiseptic stinging his nose.

"Stiles?"

Frantically Stiles searched for the sound of the voice, only to find his Dad sitting up in the chair by his bed. "Dad?"

"Jesus, kid, you gave us all a scare. And if you ever do something like that again without warning me I'm making you spend a night in the drunk tank."

"Dad, where's –" Stiles tried to swallow over the lump in his throat, the worry he felt made his heart pound. "Where's Derek?"

"He's fine. He stepped out to take a shower. Believe me, he needed it. Do you know you've been out for almost three days? I finally convinced him to go back to our house and grab a shower and some clean clothes about an hour ago. You'll be thankful I did. Ever smelled a werewolf after three days with no shower? Let me tell you, it's not pleasant. Especially when he spent the majority of those three days by your side, worried to the point that even I could smell the stench of fear and regret."

"So, he'll be fine? He's gonna be okay?" Stiles asked anxiously.

"Yes, he's fine."

"Um, what –" Stiles chewed his bottom lip.

"I better let Derek tell you that part. And let Melissa know you're awake. The rest of the Pack as well, everyone's gonna want to see you."

Stiles watched as his Dad stood up and moved toward the door but stopped, obviously changing his mind. He walked back to the bed and bent down, kissing Stiles on the forehead, his hand cupping his cheek. "I love you kid and I'm proud of you. Of what you did."

Before Stiles had a chance to reply, his Dad left the room, leaving Stiles alone with his thoughts.

He couldn't help but replay the dream he'd woken from, and wonder what it meant. His thoughts were interrupted when Melissa bustled into the room.

"Well, you gave us all quite the scare. Don't think I've ever seen Derek so beside himself as he has been the last three days. Wouldn't leave your side. He's probably gonna be mad he missed you waking up."

That kind of stabbed at Stiles' heart, because he and Derek definitely had things to discuss, and Derek didn't need any more guilt in his life.

"Can you let him know?" he asked Melissa, looking up at her, knowing there were unshed tears in his eyes.

"Sure sweetie," she squeezed his shoulder.

He was quiet as she went about the rest of checking him out. She shook her head. "Fit as a fiddle. I swear, it's as if you're a damn cat with nine lives. I'm going to check with the doctor, see if we can get you some clear liquids now that you're awake. I'm sure you're starving. And the rest of the Pack…" her voice trailed off.

"Um, can we wait until Derek comes back?"

"Sure, baby, anything you want. I'll just tell them you're still kind of tired and that you'll see them later."

His Dad came back into the room just as Melissa was leaving. The two parents smiled at each other, their looks obviously communicating something Stiles wasn't privy to and you could be sure he'd be quizzing his Dad about that later.

"Hey sport, Derek's on his way back. He's really sorry he missed you waking up."

"I almost wish we could pretend he didn't miss it," Stiles mumbled.

"Hey," his Dad said softly, a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. "The kid needed a break. He'd been here for three days, nonstop. He didn't even leave the room to go to the bathroom, just used yours. We'll make sure he doesn't beat himself up over this. Lord knows he does enough of that without adding more to his plate."

Stiles couldn't help the twitch of his lips. Never let it be said that his Dad was a stupid man. Once he'd found out about werewolves, thank you Scott and Jennifer and the Alphas, he'd done some one on one research into the Hale fire and figured things out on his own. He never said anything about it, but one night when Derek was at dinner, he'd said something. It was vague and ambiguous, like 'sorry for the loss of your family, nobody that young should ever have to deal with something like that' and Derek had said thank you. But Stiles had read between the lines, he knew what his Dad really meant.

After that his Dad went out of his way to invite Derek over for family dinners at least once a week and usually more.

"So, Derek filled me in on the whole spell/fake bond thing with your former English teacher, which wasn't she killed? I thought you all said Peter ripped her throat out."

"Yeah, that's what we thought. Apparently, it didn't take." Stiles huffed out a sigh. "I really wish people in this town would stay dead, you know, except for the good ones, they can come back. But why is it always the bad ones that seem to be the hardest to kill?"

He looked up to see his Dad staring at him an open look of incredibility on his face.

"What? Tell me you haven't thought that at least once."

His Dad was saved from having to respond by the door bursting open and Derek stalking in. He stood in the doorway staring at Stiles until Stiles started making grabby flappy hand motions at him, then he was at the beside, scooping Stiles up into a hug.

"I thought I'd lost you," he whispered into Stiles' neck.

"Feeling's mutual," Stiles answered back, hands clutching at Derek's shoulders. They hugged in silence for a moment, Stiles letting Derek sniff and scent to his heart's content. When he could feel Derek and his wolf were satisfied that he was okay, he pushed gently at him.

"What happened?"

Derek scrubbed a hand over his face and took up residence in the chair vacated by Stiles' dad, who must have hot-footed it out of the room as soon as the hugging started.

"I killed her, again."

"Are you sure?"

Derek quirked an eyebrow up at him.

"What? I had a dream okay? While I was out for three days."

Instantly, Derek sat forward, worry making his forehead crease.

Stiles waved a hand at him. "Don't worry, we defeated her in my dream too."

"What happened in your dream? Tell me." Derek growled, his eyes shifting to that silvery red Stiles would never tire of seeing even when Derek was trying to intimidate him.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "You know that shit doesn't work on me, right? Anyway, we were back in that room, wait, do you remember any of it? I mean, about your wolf and me?"

Shame and embarrassment colored Derek's face and he sat back. "All of it. Every single second."

The urge to throw up was so strong, Stiles felt panic creep in on the edges until he remembered there was literally nothing in him to throw up. He swallowed convulsively until the urge went away. "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry Derek. I never wanted to hurt him or you."

"What?"

"Your wolf. I had to kick him to get him to bite me. That's what broke her hold on you and what the hell was that?"

"Her spell?" Derek asked, confusion in his voice.

"Yeah, I mean, like what did it feel like?" Stiles asked, his voice small, vulnerable.

There were a few moments of silence before Derek dropped his eyes to his lap. "It was awful. It was like I was trapped inside my own body. Screaming to get out and yet I just kept going along with whatever she said. The night you saw us, I wanted so badly to run to you, tell you it was all wrong, but I couldn't."

That hit Stiles right in the gut, that Derek had been trapped, unable to stop her. He was going to have to talk to Deaton about making sure Derek never got mind-raped again by anyone. It made his heart ache that after everything Derek had been through in the past, this was just one more thing. "Fuck," Stiles muttered. "I wish I'd tried to do something sooner. I just, I mean, she was gorgeous and older and I'm me and fuck, I'm sorry I let you go through that for over a month."

"It wasn't your fault. It was mine."

"No," Stiles pushed himself further up in the bed, pointing his finger angrily at Derek. "I'm not letting you do this. Not again. Jesus, you need to stop blaming yourself. She took advantage of you because you had a history with her, I mean, how did it all start?"

"She was waiting at the loft for me when I got back from work. I remember her standing outside the door, she said my name, I said hello, and the next thing I know I'm asking her inside, asking her to stay for dinner even though it wasn't what I wanted."

"Hmm, so it sounds like all you did was say hello. So, what, you never going to say hello again? To anyone? Ever? It's Not. Your. Fault."

"But I hurt you," Derek mumbled.

"Yeah, well I kicked the hell out of your wolf when it was injured. Made it rip my throat out, with its teeth. Not to mention, it was my own poor self-esteem that let you stay under her control for over a month."

Derek snorted. "Well, I des –" he paused, glancing up at Stiles sheepishly. "Thank you. What you did saved all our lives. Again. Tell me about the dream."

"We were back in that room, where I found your wolf. She was there, threatening your wolf with a knife. I begged her not to kill you and the knife was at my throat. She switched back and forth so fast I was starting to get dizzy. And then it was like she was everywhere at once and we were just fighting to get across the room to each other. I broke free first and slid to your side. You rose up and stood over me. She started hitting you, stabbing you, and I yelled stop. That you deserved to have someone save you for a change and the wolf laid down and licked at my throat. I heard a scream and woke up."

"I ripped her throat out. Almost completely severed her head. She's definitely not alive and she's definitely not coming back again."

"Sometimes my dreams are prophecies though. It's how I figured out what she was, that she had you under a spell. I’m just so fucking sorry it took me a month."

Derek stood up and carefully eased onto the bed and Stiles curled into him. "But you figured it out, saved me, saved my wolf, probably saved the world. Again. It's like you're Buffy."

"Funny you should mention that…" Stiles laughed.

Huffing out a snort, Derek pressed a kiss to Stiles' head. "Thank you."

"Always, Sourwolf, always."

Stiles fell asleep in Derek's arms and dreamed of Jennifer again.

_She was in a meadow this time, he could see her, off in the distance, holding hands with someone. He squinted, it looked like Kali. They looked happy. Stiles turned to go and a whisper carried to him on a breeze. "Thank you."_

Stiles woke with a start, Derek kissed the side of his head. "M'still here," he murmured, voice raspy with sleep and exhaustion. "Your Dad left for work a while ago. Melissa let me stay, again."

"We should bury her. Give her a proper burial, you know with mistletoe, wolfsbane, maybe some salt." Stiles blurted out.

"Melissa?"

"No dumbass, Jennifer. I think she can finally be at peace now, maybe? I don't know, but maybe if we can give her body peace? Her spirit can be at peace?"

"I think she was in love with Kali. Pretty sure Kali loved her, because she was the one Kali couldn't kill."

Stiles was silent. "I saw them, in my dream. They were together, happy. What happened to Kali's body?"

"Deaton has it."

"What about Jennifer's?"

"The morgue."

"Huh."

"We'll figure something out. My boyfriend has some pull with the Sheriff."

"Oh he does? Maybe I should talk to him, see if he can get my Dad to ease up on the stalking. Come in, Dad, I know you're standing right outside the door."

They both heard a throat cleared and the door budged open just enough to let the Sheriff look inside. "Um, sorry, I was making my rounds and thought I'd stop in just long enough to see how my boys were. I'm parked in the fire lane so I can't stay. What's this about having pull with the Sheriff?"

Derek blushed and Stiles gave him a hand wave. "Later. We're fine."

"Okay, I uh, just wanted to check." He stepped into the room, quickly walking over to the bed. He bent and kissed Stiles' forehead, reaching down to squeeze Derek's shoulder at the same time. "I'll be back at the end of my shift. Get some rest, boys."

Stiles watched him leave without another word, his mouth open in shock. "Dude, you totally werewolf whammied my Dad. I mean, he approved of you before, you know with some reservations, but um, I think your endless vigil at my bedside? Totally whammied him. He just called us 'his boys'." He shifted to look up at Derek, a huge grin on his face.

Derek's eyes were shiny and Stiles nudged at his chin with his head. "He totally likes you," he said softly, snuggling back down against Derek's chest. "By the way, what ever happened with the Hunter's Council?"

Derek went stiff underneath him but Stiles had already drifted off to sleep.

*********

The day Stiles was discharged, against his father's wishes and against the advice of Melissa, Derek took them both up to the Argent's compound, house, mansion, whatever they were calling it now. The Hunter's Council had been waiting patiently to see the two of them, barely showing restraint and understanding for their whole ordeal. In fact, what little tidbits Stiles had been able to cajole out of Scott, really did make them sound like the self-important and completely useless Watcher's Council from Buffy.

He and Derek were led into a room where they were confronted by two men, and three women that looked scarier then Victoria Argent. One of the women, the one with short spiky blonde hair and green eyes, cleared her throat and stood up to speak. But Stiles held up his hand and stood up, with Derek's assistance.

"Before you start in on whatever load of crap you're going to try to feed us, we're going to get a few things straight. Which means I'm going to talk and you're going to listen. With no interruptions."

Behind him the door opened and he looked over his shoulder to watch Allison, Lydia, and the rest of the Pack slip inside. They all smiled at him encouragingly. One of the women looked like she was going to protest but if the look Allison gave her in return was any indication of how that was going to go down, Stiles was glad the woman decided against speaking. He turned back to face them.

"The Hunter's Council. You're supposed to be about the Code and making sure hunters follow it. You come in at the request of local hunters and you rely on them to inform you of what happens in their territory. You're supposed to discipline hunters that break the Code and follow up with the hunters _and_ the werewolves in that territory. Am I correct?"

Slowly, the woman nodded her head.

Stiles let out a bitter laugh. "I cannot even express to you how much you _failed_ when it came to this territory. I'm not going to go through all the ugly history because we've all heard it, some of us have lived it," he glanced at Derek, squeezed his hand before he continued. "And we've survived. Without your help. To be honest, we've been doing pretty well here in the Argent/Hale territory for over six years without so much as a peep from you. You didn't step in twelve years ago when you damn well should have and you're not stepping in now."

The woman cleared her throat and Stiles waved his hand at her. "I'm pretty sure I said no interruptions."

When she shrank back a bit, Stiles continued. "Seeing as how the Argents are the most powerful and most respected family in the Hunting business, and they are still very much alive and working, them refusing your help is going to speak volumes. Without them, you're pretty much just RPGing. So here's how it's going to work. You're going to leave town. You're not going to bother us again. And if we need help, or need some ancient archaic book we think you have access to, we'll call you. In other words, this is Hale and Argent territory and I'm pretty sure Derek and Allison have things well in hand. So don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out."

He sat back down and folded his arms, staring at the five people in front of him.

"I don't think…" the blonde haired woman started.

Allison stepped forward, a steely smile on her face. "You heard what Stiles said. You weren't invited here, in fact, we asked you not to come. We may have asked for your advice when you refused to change your plans because we thought we were up against something we couldn't defeat, but as you can see, we had everything under control. In fact, we had it taken care of before you saw fit to even arrive. And once you got here, you wasted countless hours pouring through our archives and questioning every one of us trying to find some flaw or loophole with which to hang us. Well, you didn't. And now I'd like you to leave."

She frowned. "No, what I'd really like to say is get the fuck out of my town and don't come back. If we need anything from you we'll handle it by phone, there'll be no need for you to set foot in our territory again. Are we clear?"

"Crystal, ma'am," one of the men replied, tipping his head.

Allison shifted her gaze to the blonde woman, who nodded, a look of respect on her face.

"Madame Argent. The Council has declared you head of the Argent Territory, without prejudice. We hereby reaffirm that declaration, again, without prejudice. If there's any way the Hunter's Council can assist you in the future, you need only to call."

She produced a card, handed it to Allison and the five of them left the room as if their asses were on fire. The room remained silent until Derek breathed a sigh of relief. "They're gone."

And just like that the tension lifted.

Stiles looked around angrily. "Will someone please tell me what the fuck is going on? Why did I not know they pulled all that shit?"

Everyone just laughed and Scott pulled him into a hug. "You were a bit busy dude, healing and all. But you're back."

Stiles wrapped his arms around Scott. "Okay, yeah, there was that, but someone better fill me in on that shit soon," he mumbled petulantly. "I can't believe I missed all of it."

The Pack just laughed and chattered enthusiastically and soon they were all puppy piling Stiles and Derek in the middle of the room. It was the happiest Stiles had been in a long time.

*********

Two weeks later, Stiles and Derek stood in the forest, looking at the bare ground. They were out in the middle of the forest, well not really in the middle; they were about two hundred yards from the nemeton. They were definitely far enough away that Jennifer couldn't use it to revive herself, even if her head was still attached to her body.

"So um, should we say something?" Stiles asked, nervously shifting from foot to foot, chewing on his nail.

"What's there to say?"

"I don't know, um, you killed a lot of people, we hope putting you next to the person you loved who left you for dead leaves you in peace?"

Derek just gave him a look and Stiles sighed. "I don't know. You dated her, twice, what do you think?"

He was glad when Derek barely flinched at his words. At least they'd gotten to the point where they could joke a little bit. It had been hard won, but there it was. Stiles stared at the ground, the one plot covered in wolfsbane, not only rope soaked in it, but flowers planted around it in a spiral. The other was filled with sprigs of mistletoe and wolfsbane just in case, planted all over the entire plot.

"Think they're together now? Happy?"

"I don't know," Derek replied.

Stiles 'hmmm’ed' and continued staring at the grave. "You know, despite everything, I understood where she was coming from. You know with the whole wanting to kill the Alpha's thing? And the wanting a second chance? I get it. I really do. But damn, did she have to kill nine innocent people? Go after my boyfriend? Put him under a spell? I mean Jesus, I understand being overlooked, being forgotten, that's been me my whole life. I understand wanting revenge, wanting to make people pay, make sure you're never overlooked or forgotten again, but she went about it completely the wrong way."

"I don't think we're supposed to be bagging on her at her gravesite."

Stiles rolled her eyes. "Whatever. You know what I mean. I feel badly for her. I mean, she was just trying to be the best emissary she could for her pack and then all this. It sucks."

"Yeah," was all Derek said.

They stood in silence for several long moments.

"We'll make sure the wolfsbane and mistletoe stick around for a long time," Derek said softly.

"And the salt?"

"You were serious about that?"

"Hell yeah, not taking any chances. I spread a circle of salt around the graves before they were dug, after they were dug, and after they were filled. Seriously, not taking any chances."

Derek snorted. "And the salt."

Stiles smiled and wrapped an arm around Derek's waist. "Let's go home."

Derek growled in agreement, sniffing and biting at Stiles' neck as they walked back toward his SUV.

"I still can't believe you got rid of the Camaro. Dude you have a mom car."

"No I don't."

"You totally do."

"It was good enough to do you in the backseat."

Stiles went warm all over, remembering that particular night. "Yeah, um, about that. You wanna do a repeat?"

Derek laughed, lifted Stiles up and carried him to the car, putting him in the backseat. "Yup."

Stiles threw his head back and laughed as Derek sucked up a mark over his Adam's apple. Somewhere in the back of his mind was the thought that they would have to make this permanent, binding forever in some way so nothing could ever come between them again. But that was a thought for another day. For now, he was just going to feel. And feel he did.

**The End.**

**Author's Note:**

> There is one scene where Stiles is in a dreamscape with Derek's wolf and in order to save them both he kicks the wolf to goad it into biting him. The wolf has been neglected and is not in good shape.
> 
> Jennifer has put Derek under a spell, so their 'relationship' is not necessarily consensual. Nothing happens ON THE PAGE as such though.
> 
> Again, me own Teen Wolf? BWWWAHHHAAAHHAA you're cute.


End file.
